


Vices

by SuperstarMorgan



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Death, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Gen, Gender-neutral Reader, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Needles, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 02:40:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14227320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperstarMorgan/pseuds/SuperstarMorgan
Summary: The Doctor leaves you behind on Earth without even saying goodbye. You don’t cope well with being thrown back into Earth-life.





	Vices

**Author's Note:**

> This story is also on my Tumblr if you'd rather read it there: https://madboxwithagirl.tumblr.com/post/171748059634/vices
> 
> Warnings: Heavy angst, death, semi-graphic depictions of a dead body, alcohol usage, drug usage, addiction, needles
> 
> Enjoy!

As soon as you woke up, you knew something was wrong. At first, you couldn’t quite figure it out. While life traveling the stars wasn’t the safest way to spend your time, you knew that being on the TARDIS itself was usually safe and she would protect you from anything harmful. With her around, nothing should have been out of the ordinary. The ship. Why wasn’t she humming? That’s not right, she should always be humming. Your eyes opened, confused as to why that lovely sound wasn’t there, but you wished you had kept them closed. Above you wasn’t the ceiling of your room on the ship. No, above you was the ceiling of your room back on Earth.

You sat up quick enough to almost give yourself whiplash, looking around your room, not quite believing you were there. How did you get there? Why were you there? Where was the Doctor? Your heart squeezed painfully at the idea that, perhaps, the Doctor wasn’t real, and you had just had an elaborate dream. A quick glance at your hands, which were covered in small scabs from a recent trip, debunked that theory rather quickly, and you found that your heart hurt more at the realization. The Doctor was real. He was very real. And he had left you at your home without a word. You were alone.

___

You must have done something wrong. That’s what you kept telling yourself during the weeks following your abandonment. He didn’t even bother saying goodbye. He wouldn’t have just left you without telling you why, you had tried to reason with yourself. And yet, he had done just that. He had scooped you up as you had slept and placed you in your bed on Earth before taking his magical box and going back into space. He hadn’t even bothered to leave you a note.

You had wracked your brain for hours, trying to figure out what exactly you had done wrong. Maybe it was because you had wandered off one too many times? Or maybe you had said the wrong thing to him and he was angry with you? Or maybe, you feared, he had simply grown bored of you and decided he wanted another companion to travel with. You found yourself sobbing as your mind searched for answers to a question that only the Doctor knew the answers to.

You often found yourself crying out and begging for whatever gods might exist to bring your friend back to you. You didn’t have a life to live on Earth anymore. You had no friends, no family, no job. All you had was your house and some saved up money. You didn’t consider your little house a home anymore. The TARDIS was your home. The Doctor was your life. You desperately wanted to go home, to sleep in your bed on the ship, to play around with the console controls until the Doctor pulled your hands away to scold you playfully.

Nothing on Earth was fun or entertaining to you anymore. The crummy TV shows that you used to watch for a quick laugh no longer had an impact on you. Your favorite Earth foods no longer tasted delicious, the many dishes in other times and places being superior in every way. The stars in the night sky seemed so lackluster from afar, and the view on other planets were much better than on your small bit of rock. You had tried so hard, you really had, but you simply couldn’t enjoy yourself anymore. You wanted to go home.

___

It only took a couple of months before you picked up alcohol. You had never thought that you would ever drink to forget something, but you believed that it was the only way to keep yourself from thinking about your Time Lord friend. It had started small, just a couple of drinks while watching an overrated sitcom and eating some tasteless microwave dinners. But it soon became a drink when you woke up, then a few drinks while eating lunch, and even more before bed - to help you sleep, you told yourself. It soon got to a point where you were under the influence in some way from the first drink of the day until you finally passed out at night.

You knew that it didn’t actually help. You continued to think about the Doctor even when you were so drunk that you could barely figure out what two plus two was. The alcohol simply numbed the pain and made your memories of him more bearable. You would giggle when you remembered something silly he had done, and you would grumble and pout when you remembered how he would force you to go to sleep even if you still awake enough to have another quick trip. When the alcohol would begin to wear off, you’d start to feel that numbing pain in your heart while you remembered that you were back on Earth without him. That meant it was time for another drink.

___

Soon enough, the alcohol wasn’t enough. You needed more. You needed something stronger. You needed to forget. If you hadn’t thought that you would be someone to abuse alcohol, than you certainly never fathomed that you would be doing lines of cocaine or injecting heroin. And yet, there you were, laying on your couch with a tourniquet wrapped around your arm, staring into space as you nodded in and out of consciousness.

You would nod once and he was there, then another nod and he was gone. Was he really there? Or was your mind playing tricks on you? Had he come back for you, but left because of the state you were in? You tried to call out to him, tried to get him to come back, but you couldn’t make your body work. You had no choice but to simply let yourself go in and out of consciousness, watching him come and go with every bob of your head.

When you finally came out of your high, you determined that you needed something more powerful, something that wouldn’t allow you to see the man that you so severely missed. Perhaps a higher amount of what you already had would do the trick. Or maybe some newer, stronger drugs. Maybe a mixture of different substances? You honestly didn’t know what it would take, but you knew you needed to keep trying. Anything to forget.

___

Your eyes were sunken into your skull, the bags under them black as pitch. Your once healthy hair was now thinning and falling out. Your skin was far too pale, any healthy color long gone. Your bones jutted out, sharp and prominent. You didn’t look like the same person who had traveled with the Doctor. You hated what you had become. If he had seen you, he would have thought that you were some alien creature. You didn’t want to be that. You wanted to be the one fighting the creatures, saving planets and protecting innocent beings. But how could you possibly do that now? You couldn’t even save yourself.

You had no idea how long it had been since you had been dropped off at home. Was it a couple of months? A year? Two? Time was blurred. All you knew was that no matter what you did, no matter how powerful the drug, he wouldn’t leave your memory. You would hallucinate and see him, his beautiful police box behind his back, his bright smile coaxing you to him. And you would fall for it, wanting nothing more than to run into his arms and go back to traveling the universe. You would run towards him, your heart beating with such power that it hurt your chest, but you didn’t care. You were going home.

But then it would change, his kind smile and his ship melting away into terrifying images of creatures and planets being destroyed. You would run away, mortified of what you were seeing, but you couldn’t get away. Everything was surrounding you, tormenting you, reminding you of your weakness. You cried out for the Doctor, wanting him to come and save you. But he would never come. You had to face the demons alone.

___

You had decided that you had finally had enough. The hallucinations, the constant state of haziness, the spending of all of your life savings. You couldn’t live like that anymore. You had accepted that nothing you would do would erase the memory of your previous life with your friend. You had to move forward.

It hurt, it hurt so bad. You had no one to lean on for support. When you felt like giving up, you had nobody but yourself. You had to learn to be your own shoulder to cry on. Your body didn’t like that you were denying it the drugs it had been so used to for so long. You often fell back, having a little bit here and there to appease it. It took everything you had to not go back to how you were before.

You had managed to find a job, which had truly surprised you. Your employer seemed sympathetic of your plight, of which you were grateful. He let you start off slow, only working few days a week as a part time worker. You weren’t ready to get back into how life was before the Doctor, but it was a big step for you regardless. You felt proud of yourself.

You tried to keep from spending the money you made on more drugs, but you couldn’t help but buy some every now and again. You were nowhere near being clean, but you were doing better. You were learning how to stay away from them. Even when you found yourself ready to give up, you thought of your employer and his kindness towards you. He was the closest you had to a support system, and you weren’t going to let that slip away.

It started to become easier to think about the Doctor. You could remember the adventures and laughs you had shared without feeling the uncontrollable urge to try to forget. You thought about your days flying through the galaxies, seeing new places and meeting new people wherever you went. Some days were better than others. Some days you would be able to think about the past and you’d just feel sad. Other times, you would sob and call out his name, hoping he’d hear you and come back. On the worst days, you’d need to escape, allowing yourself to indulge in harmful coping mechanisms. But it was alright. You were okay. You were going to be okay.

___

You were getting better. You truly were. You were working full time. You were saving the money made from your job, buying only the necessities. The house was neat and tidy, the fridge and pantry stocked up with all sorts of lovely foods and treats. You found that you could enjoy them all again, even if they weren’t as flavorful as the foods you had tried on your travels. While you still didn’t look like your old self again, your skin had gained most of its color back, your bones didn’t stick out as much, and your hair was slowly growing back, nice and healthy. You rarely felt the need to pick up a needle or take or pill. You were really doing better.

And then he showed up.

You had never expected to see the Time Lord again. Even though you had begged and wished so many times for him to return, you never believed that it would work. Yet somehow, he was there. He appeared out of his bigger-on-the-inside box, sonic screwdriver in hand. You had been walking down the street, ready to treat yourself to a well-deserved dinner when you saw him. You couldn’t believe your eyes. There, right in front of you, was your Doctor. He looked the same, still wearing the Converse with his blue suit, his hair spiked in such a way that you swore a brush had never touched it, not even once. Your heart rate began to increase, tears coming to your eyes. He was there. He had come back. You wanted to run to him and hold onto him, beg him to take you back, and apologize for whatever it was that made him leave you.

Then, you saw that he wasn’t alone. The brown-eyed alien had a girl with him, and he was chatting her ear off. Any happiness promptly left your body, your racing heart now hurting as you watched the scene in front of you. A hand flew to your mouth as you let out a choked sob, the sound reaching the ears of your old friend. He looked over and saw you, his expression falling as his eyes searched your face. You didn’t look the same as when he had left you all those months ago. Yes, you had been doing better, but you still didn’t look as healthy as you did before. And then there were the tears that were falling from your eyes, your face scrunching up as you felt the pain of being replaced reach your soul. He spoke your name softly and questioningly, not quite believing that it was you. As he took a step towards you, you turned heel and began to run back to your house. He tried to follow you, but you had disappeared into the crowd too quickly.

You burst into your home, tears blurring your vision as you tried to find your secret stash. Your heart was shattered and you wanted to get rid of the pain. You should have known he was going to replace you eventually. The Doctor couldn’t be alone, you knew that. Even so, seeing him with a new companion shook you to your core. You had wanted nothing more than to see him again, but you began to wish that he had just stayed away.

Through your tears, you found what you were looking for. Sitting on the couch, you tied the tourniquet tightly around your arm and began the process that you had hoped you would never do again. You injected the liquid into your vein and laid back, sighing as you let the drug take effect. Your head began to bob, your mind fading in and out before you finally fell unconscious.

___

That was how he found you. Your body lay on the couch, bloated and blue. Your eyes were glossed over, staring out into nothingness. Your body hadn’t been able to handle the amount of heroin you had injected. Months prior, you could have handled the amount you had taken, but after being fairly clean for some time, that amount was too much to take. Your arm was off of the couch, the deadly needle still sticking out of it. The stench of death was overwhelming, the whole house reeking of it. The Doctor couldn’t stand it. He retched and ran to the bathroom, his body convulsing as he fell to his knees and vomited into the toilet.

The Doctor was used to death. He had to see it everywhere he went. He had witnessed the deaths of mothers, fathers, children, grandparents. He had had to watch families end each others’ lives, planets be blown to pieces, people tortured until they passed out from the pain and died. He had even destroyed his own planet. But nothing could have prepared him for your body.

He had never wanted to see your body in such a state. He had never wanted to see you dead, period. But if he had had to choose, he would have rather seen your body as soon as you had passed, your skin still the correct color and the right size. He would have preferred the scent of the drugs than of your rotting corpse.

Tears stung his eyes by the time he had finished puking. The Doctor leaned against the wall and caught his breath, the death smell weaker in the bathroom. He grit his teeth and shut his eyes, the tears falling freely now. He should have come to your house as soon as he had lost sight of you. He could have explained to you that the woman wasn’t a companion, but just a random girl he had flagged down and wanted to talk to, asking her if she had seen anything out of the ordinary. He could have saved you. Or, at the very least, he could have gotten to your body before death’s vile touch had turned it into its current state.

He hadn’t expected you to get anywhere close to the point where you had ended up. When he left you, he had expected you to go through some sadness for a time, but then he thought you would perk up and go on out and live again. He had thought you would have gone to someone if you felt too depressed to move on. He never expected you to turn to drugs.

He regretted leaving you behind. He had come back not only to catch some pesky alien that was planning on hurting the people of the town, but to also explain why he had left. The guilt that had plagued him from just leaving you behind without even a letter had become too much. He had done it to keep you safe, terrified that you would have gotten hurt or killed while traveling with him. He had to bring you back while you were asleep, knowing that you would have never agreed to go willingly. He should have just let you stay on the TARDIS and let things take their course. If you had died, at least you would have been happy, he reasoned.

The Doctor stood slowly and held his breath, knowing that he needed to get your body to someone so you could be properly taken care of and buried. He pulled out a handkerchief and put it up to mouth and nose before walking back out into the living room and up to your body. Tying hard not to let himself feel sick again, he reached his hand out and closed your eyes, your lifeless stare finally broken. He looked at your body one final time, his hearts pounding painfully at the sight. Turning, he went back into his ship and made a call to the emergency services, telling them of an awful smell coming from the home.

The TARDIS dematerialized from your house and reappeared on the street. He waited outside for the police cars and ambulances to arrive, knowing they’d want to question him. When they came, he answered their questions, trying as best as he could to keep from getting emotional, knowing that they would question him further. He almost broke when he saw paramedics exit the house with a gurney with a white cloth over it, but he managed to stay composed.

When all was said and done and they left with your body, he walked solemnly back to his ship. He looked at your house for the last time before entering the doors. Once inside, he went to the console and began to slowly punch in new coordinates. Pushing the buttons and pulling the levers, the machine wheezed and made its way to the destination. When he landed, he stepped out and onto the street, right in front of a bar. The Doctor needed a drink.

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all feedback is always appreciated!


End file.
